My name is Brandon Westin, and I'm Carlisle Grayson's secretary and secret lover.

No matter how cold he acts toward me, how much he humiliates me, or how often he "lends" me off to other people, I still choose to stick with him without any remorse or complaints.

His friends call me a shameless lapdog. Carlisle calls me a twink, often blaming me for "turning him gay" and thus ruining his life.

However, when I finally choose to leave him, he looks at me with red-rimmed eyes and asks, "How can you say that you don't love me?"

I could hear voices from outside the bathroom stall. The group of rich heirs was making a lot of noise.

Meanwhile, I sat on the sink countertop inside the stall, every finger and toe of mine curled up. However, it wasn't because I was feeling good.

On the contrary, the only thing I could feel was excruciating pain.

Ever since Carlisle Grayson got drunk and slept with me three years ago, our relationship had changed from that between good friends into that of friends with benefits.

Carlisle often said that I was disgusting for liking men, as I was a man myself. He called me a twink. He hated me with all of his heart because I had supposedly turned him gay and ruined his life for him.

Yet, he never stopped sleeping with me and kept calling me over whenever he felt like it.

Every time we did it was like pure torture for me. It wasn't any different this time either, but I still willingly let him do whatever he wanted with me.

I stared at Carlisle's face, mesmerized, running the pad of my fingers lightly across his face as I was reluctant to shift my eyes away from him.

"You're so shameless, Brandon Westin!"

Carlisle reached out with his hand and covered my face in disgust. He often told me that he felt disgusted whenever he saw the face I made while he was doing me.

After he was done, Carlisle shoved me aside impatiently, as if he didn't want to continue touching me for even one second more if he could help it.

I was covered in a layer of sweat all over because I was in so much pain.

I hopped down from the countertop. However, I lost my balance and fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

The sound echoed loudly in the stall. Yet, Carlisle didn't even bother stopping in his tracks to check on me and left without looking back.

I shakily crawled to my feet and started cleaning myself, washing away the blood from my behind.

Carlisle was always very rough with me. He'd never care whether I was in any pain or if I'd get sick or hurt.

I just took my painkillers as usual and gingerly shuffled out of the bathroom like an awkward penguin to look for him.

The private room was somehow more lively than ever. When the others saw me like this, they exchanged glances and began raining insults on me.

"Can't believe that a man like him would turn out to be so shameless. He can't live without a man by his side!"

"Did you know that he graduated from the most prestigious college in the country? Yet, this is the path he chose. He's just asking for it!"

"Why is he still trying to curry favor with Carl? When Carl was still into women, he looked down on Brandon. But now, when Carl's into men, he still doesn't like Brandon!"

"You know nothing. He's just doing it for the money!"

I turned a deaf ear to their gossip and just kept looking around, scanning the rest of the crowd for Carlisle.

Finally, someone decided to spare me from my misery. "Stop looking for him. Theodore called earlier and told Carlisle that he wasn't feeling well. Carl's already gone over to his place!"

Theodore Sprouse was now Carlisle's latest crush.

Theodore often said that he only saw Carlisle as his friend, but Carlisle didn't mind. He still showed up whenever Theodore asked him to go over and saved up every last ounce of his tenderness for him.

I was stunned for a brief moment. Then, after thanking the person, I left the noisy, rowdy private room and went out.

It was raining heavily outside the club, and it took me a long while to finally get an Uber. However, Carlisle suddenly texted me. He told me that Theodore felt like eating my cream of pumpkin soup and pulled beef, so I was to go home and make them before sending the food over.

I frowned and called Carlisle's number.

I had to call him a few times before he finally picked up. His tone was icy cold as he said, "Why did you keep calling me when you knew very well that I was over at Theo's?

"Must you keep reminding him of your existence, Brandon Westin? Would you die if you stopped trying to get my attention for just a single day?"

"I'm sorry for interrupting you both," I said, massaging my throbbing forehead. "It's just that I'm not feeling that well and I don't think I can cook for Mr. Sprouse right now."

I was really feeling sick. Otherwise, I'd never have spoken to him about it.

However, Carlisle's voice turned icy and hostile after that. "You looked fine and energetic when you were actively seducing me earlier! So, why do you say that you feel sick just because I told you to cook for Theo?

"That's such a pathetic lie. Did you really think I was stupid?"

"I—"

I was just about to explain further when he cut in agitatedly and said, "Either make the food and bring them over now, or you'll never see my face ever again!"

He always threatened me with that whenever I was reluctant to do something he wanted me to do. And every time, I would always choose to give in to him.

I stared at my phone blankly. Carlisle had already ended the call.

I went to the hospital instead to get a prescription for my discomfort. Coincidentally, my friend, Dylan Lewis, was on doctor duty that night, and he couldn't help getting mad at me when he saw me in my current condition.

"Was it Carlisle again? He was too rough with you and made you like this, didn't he?" Dylan barked.

"How many times has this happened, Brandon? Tell me! Why are you still with that bastard? How much longer are you going to let him do such things to you?" he questioned.

I took the medications from him and replied softly, "But nobody else looks like him like Carlisle does…"

I would die if I couldn't see that face again.

My boyfriend, Callum Hansen, who'd grown up with me at the orphanage, passed away in a freak road accident three years ago.

I had been shrouded in nightmares ever since. I fell into severe depression and anxiety. I had even tried multiple times to take my own life.

It wasn't until I saw Carlisle's face that I finally found the will to live again, simply because Carlisle bore a striking resemblance to Callum.

I did everything in my power to find out more about Carlisle and try to slowly inch my way into his life. Eventually, I became his secretary and friend with benefits.

No matter how terribly he treated me or how the others called me a shameless lapdog, I still chose to stay by his side.

Dylan knew about my situation. He sighed and said, "It's been three years, Brandon. It's time for you to let go of the past."

However, I just couldn't.

Callum was the only one in the world who treated me the best, and I could never forget him, ever.

…

I took the medications as prescribed, but I still developed a high fever at close to 104 degrees Fahrenheit.

I braved the pouring rain and rushed to deliver the food to Carlisle and Theodore. By the time I reached, I was already feeling drowsy and a little out of it. Every step I took made me feel like I was floating on clouds, soft and fluffy.

"What took you so long? Don't you know that Theo has gastritis and needs to eat on time?"

Carlisle didn't even let me in the door before he started chastising me with a deep frown on his face, as if he never even realized that I was as pale and sickly as a ghost.

Theodore walked over and said, "I'm thankful enough that Mr. Westin is even willing to cook for me, Carl. Stop scolding him. I mean, I was the one who ate all the food he made for you in the past, and I kinda feel bad about it now."

Theodore was just like Carlisle in the sense that they both looked down on me like I was an ant they could crush with just a stomp of their foot.

Realization dawned on me. I only learned just then why Carlisle still made me cook for him even though he claimed to hate me. It was because Theodore liked it.

Carlisle took the food from me and made me wait at the door.

My forehead was burning up pretty badly, and my legs were turning into jelly. I didn't even care that the ground outside was dirty and just sank down to rest.

One hour later, Carlisle was finally done feeding Theodore, so he came back with me to the office.

On the way there, he suddenly said out of the blue, "I'm dating Theo now, and he doesn't like you being around me. So, you have two choices. Go and serve Athol Ferrel, or get out of my sight!"

Athol Ferrel was our company's biggest client. However, he was also very infamously known as a pervert who had ruined many people's lives.

He'd also harassed me on multiple accounts before, but I'd managed to hide from him every time.

But now, was Carlisle seriously telling me to sleep with him just because Theodore didn't like me around?

What did Carlisle take me for?

I felt a sharp stab in my heart, watching the face I loved the most speak such horrible words. The pain was so great that I nearly fainted from it.

I stared into Carlisle's eyes, my face flushed, wanting nothing more than to give him a hard slap on the cheek.

However, in the end, I found myself asking shakily, "If I go and serve Athol, will I still be able to remain as your secretary at work?"

Carlisle stared at me in shock. Then, he frowned and said, "So, you really like me that much, Brandon? You like me so much that you're willing to get yourself dirty just to stay with me?"

I didn't answer his question. I just clenched my fists and repeated my question. "Will I?"

"Yes!" he said, pausing for a bit before nodding.

I lowered my head and answered, "Okay. I'll go."

I was willing to do anything to remain by his side.

Carlisle probably never thought that I would agree to his proposition so quickly and without argument. He didn't seem quite happy.

I just couldn't understand him. He forced me into this, and I'd agreed to play by his rules. So, why was he still looking upset?

I didn't bother asking him and just leaned against the window to catch up on some sleep.

Carlisle brought me straight to the hotel that Athol was at, probably afraid that I'd go back against my word and make a run for it.

I took the room keycard from him, took a deep breath, and opened the door to Athol's hotel room.